Postcards from Sydney
by Kimba
Summary: Who's sending the Rats pstcards ... from Sydney???


Postcards from Sydney by Kimba (kimba09@start.com.au) 

Summary: Oh, boy. Hunter's got herself into a real mess. She's only been with the Rats a couple of weeks and already some psycho hates her guts. But what can police do when she defies orders? Not a lot apparently! 

Disclamer: When will I ever stop writing about Hunter? When I get sick of her, of course, which may be a long time since I created her. As for the other characters, well, when Hal throws them out, they won't be much good to me. 

Author's Notes: Hunter's true colours start to show in this fic. Hope you guys are ready for it! As always, feedback would be much appreciated. ------------------------------------------------- Postcards from Sydney By Kimba 

Hunter looked around her lounge room, panting. Three rather battered-and-bruised men dressed in black were sprawled across the floor and were being handcuffed by Gavin, Donna and Tommy. Jack, Alex and Mick glanced around Hunter's waterfront house then looked at the three suspects. "'You know these guys?" Alex asked Hunter as one of them sqwarked in pain from Donna's tackle. "Not unless they're a couple of long-lost friends, which I highly doubt considering they tried to attack me." "What happened exactly?" Mick asked. Hunter shrugged. "I came home. Found these guys sitting on my couch then they came at me. 'Decided to give them a taste of their own medicine." "This wasn't a random attack," Jack spoke up after the three men had been led out of the house towards waiting police cars, "Looks like they wanted you gone." "Gee, is that why they all tried to bash me up at once?" Hunter retorted sarcastically. In truth, they'd frighten the hell out of her. She'd waltzed into the lounge after work that evening, not expecting anything out of the ordinary, when the men suddenly stood up from her couch and approached her, armed with baseball bats. They'd definitely been waiting for her to come home. Luckily for Hunter, she was a black-belt in martial arts and knew exactly how to defend herself, otherwise she'd been mince meat by now. Hunter wondered how on earth they managed to get into the hoouse. Knowing she couldn't do much at home, she agreed to follow the detectives back to the station to make a statement. It was better to do it as soon as possible while the incident was still fresh in her mind. She had just finished signing the statement when Alex stepped into the room. "Hunter, we've just got a confession from the men. Of course, they admitted trying to assualt you but they said someone paid them to do it." Hunter sat there stunned for a minute, trying to think of who would be determined enough to have her killed. She came up with a whole list of people. "Any idea who'd want to do this to you?" Alex asked. "Three-quarters of Sydney's criminal population," Hunter snorted, "Unfortunately, I've got a bit of a rep when it comes to putting crims away. I doubt either of them are my best mates right now." "I spoken to Jeff about it, and he wants to put you on 24 hour protection." "I don't need it," Hunter replied firmly, "I can look after myself." "Sorry. It was Jeff's decision," Alex shrugged. Hunter gave up. "Okay, who's my guard?" "Jack." "WHAT???? No way! Absolutely not! I'm *not* putting my life in the hands of bloody Jack Christey!" Hunter exploded, remember the warehouse incident all too well, "I'd rather be shot in the head than have to put up with Jack breathing down my neck every five seconds." "Fine," Alex sighed in resignation, "Discuss it with Jeff. It's out of my depths." "I will!" Hunter got up and stormed into Hawker's office without bothering to knock on the door. "I'm *not* having Jack Christey guarding me," she proclaimed. Jeff looked up from his work. He wasn't particularly pleased with the interruption, especially now that it was way past 10pm. He'd hope to home go and put his feet up. Of course, now that news of Hunter 's attack had surfaced, there seemed no chance of that. And he didn't need a defiant officer adding to his disappointment either. "Franklin, Jack has experience in the area. He-" "Bullshit! Jack couldn't save himself if he tried. He'd rather get results. I'm *not* going along with it." "Who would you prefer?" Jeff asked, hoping to come to some sort of agreement. He just wanted to go home! "No one. I can take care of myself."Jeff took a deep breath and managed to control his raising fustration. "It's not negotiable, Franklin. If you won't have Christey, I'll assign Reilly to you then," he decided. God knows he'll be more accepted than Jack. Besides, Mck had been in VIP security before transferring to the Water Police. He was in fact a better candidate than Jack was. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Must be the fatigue, he decided. Luckily for him, Hunter seemed pleased with the discussion. 

Hunter wasn't *that* pleased to have a shadow, but she'd decided having Mick guarding her was much bettter than Jack. Mick didn't seem to mind the task either. In fact, they got on quite well during the morning, without either of them trying to kill the other. By the time they'd finished work, they'd accepted each other quite well. That is, until Hunter spotted a van in the left-wing mirror following them that evening as Mick drove her to Darling Harbour to do some late-night shopping. "We're being followed," she announced and Mick looked into the rare vision mirror. "Yeah, it's only surveillance," he smiled. "Lose them," Hunter ordered. It was bad enough that she had to put up with a personal bodyguard but she didn't need a team of them following her every move. Besides, whoever was trying to have her killed, wasn't going to surface if he or she knew Hunter was being wrapped in cotton wool. Mick, on the other hand, had orders to keep surveillance on their tail. "I can't," he replied. "Yes, you can and you will," Hunter insisted. "Sorry." "Fine." They drove in silence. Hunter was formulating a plan. It'd have to be pretty quick, if she wanted to lose them. They stopped at an insection and waited for the lights to turn green. Hunter saw her chance. Without warning, she undid her seat belt, opened the door and got out. This obviously caught Mick off-guard as hescrambled towards the closing door to try and stop her. "Hunter! Get back in here! Hunter! HUNTER!!! Shit!!" Hunter ignored him, turned left and melted into the crowd. Mick sat back in the seat fustrated. He didn't need this! Several cars behind him blasted their horns. The lights had changed and he couldn't change lanes. Driving on, he changed lanes and parked the car. He then pulled out his phone. "You WHAT????" Jack screamed down the phone, "You''re supposed to be watching her!" "Yeah, I know but she caught me off-guard and got out when we were at the intersection. What the hell was I supossed to do?" "What about surveillance?" Mick looked into the rare vision mirror. The van was still there, parked several metres away. "Looks like they've lost her too." There was a pause. "Okay, get back here. I'll have the dogs watch her house. She's gonna have to go back there sometime," Jack sighed, anger seemingly having desolved. When Mick returned to the station, everyone knew what had happened. Jeff, in particular, wasn't in his best mood. "I assigned you to watch Franklin and you can't even do that!" "Sorry, Sir. It all happened so fast. She wanted me to lose the dogs and when I told her I wouldn't, she just shot through." Jeff rubbed his face. They had a killer on the loose and a missing officer. What the hell was Franklin playing at?? "We keep this tight-lipped. Understood? The last thing we need is the public thinking we're slack in our procedures." 

The next day, a postcard was delivered to the station. No one knew anyone who'd been on holidays and Helen was surprised when she found it lying on the front desk. She took one look at it and immediately headed upstairs to the detectives' office. Jack read it aloud.  "Hunter sent us a postcard?" Alex asked, not quite believing it. "Where's it from?" Jack turned the postcard over and showed them the picture of the Sydney Opera House. "What does it mean?" he asked thoughtfully, more to himself than to his colleagues. "Why the hell would she write us a postcard?" Mick wondered out aloud. "Why doesn't she just ring us?" No one knew the answer to that. 

Hunter sat on the couch, thinking. She hadn't bothered going home the night before because she knew surveillance would be parked outside her house waiting for her. Instead, she had gone to a mate's house and made her swear not to tell anyone where she was. She'd bought a sack of postcards and posted one to the station late yesterday evening, fearing that if she rang them, the number would be traced and they'd know where she was. She was sure they'd receive it by now. She'd even written them a cryptic message on the card, telling them what she was planning. Last thing she wanted was to have some old fool pick it up and know exactly what she had in mind. She didn't want to be found - not yet anyway. She'd begun ignoring her pager messages and had turned off her mobile phone. She wanted her assailant to think that she didn't have any protection and flush him or her out of hiding. It was the best way to do it really. She'd done what most crims did. Hide from the police to strike their next victim - only in this case her victim was also her suspect. All she had to do is wait a couple of days for word to get around. Smiling, she left the house and went to a public phone several blocks away. "Sam? ... Yeah, it's Hunter... Good. Listen, I've got a newsflash for you." The next day, Emma threw a copy of the days paper on the front desk and headed towards the divers area. Helen looked at her disapprovingly and was about to reprimand her when she caught sight of the headlines. OFFICER LOST AT INTERSECTION Oh, boy, she thought. What was Hunter up to now?? Eventually, she decided to keep the paper out of Jeff's sight. She knew he'd have a fit if he saw the headline. Unfortunately, Jeff already had a copy of the paper in his office and wanted to see the detectives right away. Helen was just glad she was at the front desk right now. 

Hunter read the papers and smiled. This should attract his or her attention. 

TWO DAYS LATER Three more postcards had been sent by Hunter, each with a message very similar to the first one she'd sent. Despite the clues Hunter had sent out, no one had quite figure out what she was trying to say. Without her assistant, Helen had gone through each of the postcard, repeating each message in her head. Suddenly, the first message hit her.  Was Hunter trying to explore inside the mind of the killer? She must be, to know who it might be. She looked at the second message.  Now that definitely had her stumped. Maybe she was trying to say that she wasn't really missing? It made sense. She put the card down and rested her eyes. The detectives were no closer to finding Hunter's assailant and the closest lead they had were the postcards - all of them from within the city. At least they knew that Hunter was still in Sydney. That was something. With no lead on Hunter's whereabouts, it seemed their suspect was as stumped as they were. At least the police knew what she was capable of. She glanced at the third postcard.  Oh, yes. She understood that. There was *always* a way with Hunter. She read the last postcard.  The sky? PolAir perhaps? Or Tayler? Why would she tell Tayler where she is? 

Hunter had decided it was time. She smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have so many unusual - not to mention, useful - contacts. She left the house, went to the same public phone and dialled a familiar number. "Josh? ... Yeah, it's Hunter. ... Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. ... Yeah, sorry. Look, you remember that favour I asked you about three days ago?... Yeah, that one. Well, I'm ready ... Ready for the message?" She rattled off the message and hung up. She then caught the nearest train and headed towards Circular Quay. She looked at her watch. She had about five hours to go and had a feeling the message was going to attract a lot of attention. She had plenty of time - and opefully it was enough time for all involved. 

The Nemesis crew was patrolling Darling Harbour. Suddenly a buzzing sound could be heard from above. They looked up and saw a plane circling the sky. "What's he doing?" Tommy asked curiously, squinting up at the plane to try and get a better look. "Not sure," Donna replied, "Hey, hang on. It's writing something." They waited a few minutes before realizing what it was about. Gavin reached for the radio. "Police Launch Nemesis to VKG Sydney Water Police." "Go ahead, Nemesis." Helen replied. "Sarge, have sighted a plane sky-writing. I think it's a message from Franklin." "Franklin? Copy that. Sydney Water Police Clear." Skywriting? Helen glanced down at the last postcard which she had in the front desk with her. Of course!  Look to it to read the message! Calling out to the detectives, they all hurried out onto the balcony just as the plane had finished writing the third word. HUNTING BEE STINGS "Oh, brother," Mick said, "Not another cryptic message." AT "Stings. Perhaps a code for undercover work?" Alex muttered. "Nah, too obvious. She won't have it written for everyone to see if she wanted an undercover op," Jack spoke up. "That may be why she added the word 'bee' into the message," Helen suggested. "Okay, so let's assume she has," Jack said, "Where and when?" "I think we're about to find out," Mick answered. They waited about ten minutes before the whole message began to take place. HUNTING BEE STINGS AT OPERA HOUSE AT SUNDOWN "Opera House in the evening," Jack read, stating the obvious then looked down at his watch, "It's five. We haven't got much time." 

He looked up and saw the message. A large grin spread on his face. Finally! he thought. Hunter Franklin? You're mine! He went inside to prepare for the showdown. 

FOUR HOURS LATER Hunter headed up the steps of the Opera House and looked around. It seemed rather quiet. It was nearly 9 pm. Hopefully, they were ready. Perhaps they didn't understand the message she had sent? Maybe her assailant hadn't understood it. She entered the foyer cautiously and took a deep breathe. This was one risk she had to take. She had already decided what ticket to buy and stood just inside the doors out the sight from the outside. Here she could see anyone who walk up the stairs. A car pulled up and Alex stepped out. Hunter let out a sigh of relief. The car drove away but she couldn't tell who was in the driver's seat. It didn't matter. Alex was here and that's what mattered. Hunter moved away from her spot and took a seat near the viewing programs. She nodded discreetly at Alex who bought a ticket, walked up to her and pretended to read the previews. "The Nemesis are west, Harpy east. Helen, Mick and Jack are outside by the steps lingering," she muttered softly. "You sure the guy's coming?" "No," Hunter spoke through nearly-closed lips, "I'm hoping like hell he or she will though." Alex dropped someting and bent down to pick it up. Discreetly looking around, she handed Hunter a handgun. "Hawker thought you might need it." she told her. "And -" She stopped suddenly. Hunter looked at her, saw an ear-piece insitu and realized she was wired. Alex must be getting a meesage. "Someone's coming," Alex informed her. Hunter nodded as a man, carrying a sprobag, walked through the doors. He looked around and saw Alex with Hunter. He then sat opposite them, looking intently at Hunter. Hunter glanced at Alex and headed for the toilets. The man followed her. "Target in sight," Alex said into the wire and followed both of them. A few minutes later, Helen, Jack and Mick wondered through the entrance and caught a glimpsed of Alex heading towards the toilets. They began to follow, but the receptionist tried to stop them. "I'm sorry, you can't go in there," she said. The trio identified themselves and headed off after Hunter and Alex. 

Hunter looked around. She'd lost him for now. She was sure it was him, though she couldn't quite put a name on him. She felt a movement and swung out, gun pointing. It was only Alex. Silently, the pair moved along the corridor cautiously. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and both of them duck instinctively. The man came to sight from around the corner. Alex and Hunter both pressed themselves against the wall and waited. In a distance, they could hear the faint yells of 'Police, don't move!' as Helen, Jack and Mick came into sight, guns pointing. Helen came into sight first and the man pointed his rifle at her. "NO!!!" Mick yelled and dived Helen to the ground as another shot went off. There was a few seconds silence. Hunter and Alex came out of their hiding place and looked at the dead body that lay face down. "Michael Holden?" Hunter announced, kicking him with her foot so he rolled over to his back. "Meet my bullet." 

THE END 

Before anyone starts protesting, I live in Adelaide so I don't know what inside of the Opera House really looks like. But apart from that, feedback please????? kimba09@start.com.au 


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